


Whiskey and Cigarette Smoke

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Body Modification, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Genital Piercing, Hook-Up, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, minor referenced mcashe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Taking a sip of whiskey, Ashe continues her scan of the room, locking eyes with a woman she’s never seen before. She’s sitting alone at one of the tables at the rear of the dancefloor and she's gorgeous; nothing but trouble with that flirty smile on her lips. Her mulberry lipstick pops against her skin, her black cocktail dress hugs her figure, and it's short, barely covering her ass. Her legs go on for days, Ashe eyes them, from her thick, muscular thighs, all the way to the black stilettos on her feet.





	Whiskey and Cigarette Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a celebration of my 69th work on AO3! I honestly never thought I'd get here, but I clearly write too much XD. 100, here I come!
> 
> I wish to extend the biggest of thanks to robo for suggesting this pairing when I floated the idea. We honestly need more femslash works.

The music thrums through Ashe’s veins. The bass vibrates through the floor and the couch she sits on.

She can definitively say that it’s not her cup of tea. She much prefers the soft rhythm of a guitar accompanied by a sweet, angelic voice—simple, plain, elegant. But that isn’t what makes her money—a DJ with synth tracks, one hell of a bass beat, and a big name absolutely does. 

He is young, just a kid of barely twenty-one years who is making massive waves in the underground scene—Lúcio Correia dos Santos. She had never heard of him, but the triplets caught him in Brazil at a rave and begged her to bring him here for his first American show. 

She did an interest check before reaching out, there was no way she was going to splash that amount of money if no one else had heard of him. The triplets helped with marketing—they’ve actually got a knack for it—laying down cryptic clues without actually revealing the kid’s name. Turns out he’s more popular than she ever thought; the club is at full capacity and then some. It’s _ never _been this busy before. 

The triplets are having the time of their lives; dancing to the tunes in front of the kid’s setup. She’s never seen them so… coordinated. Usually, they’re clumsy as fuck, either tripping over their own shoes or dropping things through their butterfingers. But here, they’re actually moving in time with the beat, hopping and jumping without so much as a misplaced foot. It almost looks choreographed. 

Ashe watches from her private booth at the back of the room. To aid in her overall enjoyment of the music, she is indulging in a glass of top-shelf whiskey and her finest Cuban cigar. She stretches her legs, crossing them at the ankles as she rests her feet on the table in front of her. 

She doesn’t have company tonight and is more than happy with that. There is nothing worse than trying to entertain someone over the sound of music, and with how loud the kid’s setup is, it would be impossible. If she’s being completely honest, she wouldn’t be here if this _ wasn’t _ her club. But she needs to make sure her face is seen, that people know _ she _ is responsible for bringing them all together for this show.

That, and she’s not going to leave a kid alone with these sharks. She’s rolled out the red carpet for him; limo to and from the club, and she’s put him up in the best hotel Phoenix has to offer. She wants to make sure that he remembers her when he’s big and famous one day. 

Finishing the last of what is her second whiskey, she places her empty glass on the table, and almost immediately, her third is handed to her. With a curt nod of thanks, she takes a long sip, savouring the warmness in her throat. 

Looking at the dancefloor, her eyes flit from the bodies dancing and swaying to the beat, to the couple making out at one of the tables, to the girl dragging a guy into the women’s bathroom. These are regulars, people she knows from town who she bumps shoulders with when she runs errands. The same horny, lewd people who share a taste in music, who are having fun and enjoying themselves. 

And yet, instead of wanting to get in on some action, all Ashe can think about is all the money she can launder tonight. 

It’s been a long decade getting to this point after Overwatch crashed in like the wrecking ball they were. She didn’t give up, though, taking the tattered remains of the gang and rebuilding from the ground up again with Bob by her side. In that time, she has truly discovered the seemingly bottomless depths of her strength and has come out on top. She can achieve _ anything _ she sets her mind to, and with Bob as her right hand, she is unstoppable. 

Filling her ranks was easy enough once the gang started to make waves, but this time she was careful with the people she surrounded herself with. She kept everyone at arm’s distance, the consequences of betrayal _ known _ and _ acknowledged _when prospects were inducted into the gang. 

She’ll never trust anyone other than Bob. Bob has _ always _had her back—from when she was a child, after Overwatch took everything, to now. 

There _has_ been no one else. There _will_ be no one else. 

Taking a deep puff of her cigar, she sees tonight as the celebration that it is. She can’t remember the last time she had a night off, where she didn’t have her head buried in spreadsheets detailing club finances and spending. Or when she wasn’t swamped with emails and phone calls with potential buyers of the hardware she’s got stored. 

Being able to just sit back and breathe, to reap the rewards of her hard work has made this long and arduous road absolutely worth it.

Tonight is good for business; both for the club and for Deadlock. The gang has survived as long as it has with this club as a legitimate business, as well as providing her with the opportunity to move cash which is currently locked away. 

She should absolutely branch out into other genres of music than just local country stars, maybe even capitalise on DJs considering there clearly is a market for them. Whatever it takes to get these walls full of people spending their hard-earned cash.

Perhaps she could host secret underground concerts. One night only, limited capacity, incredibly exclusive and intimate shows. She loathe to admit it, but she could use the triplets’ help with this, see if they have any other artists to recommend. They were right on the money with this, and it was a gamble that has paid off immensely, more than she ever thought possible. 

She has no reason to doubt the triplets; they've proven themselves worthy and they're loyal to a fault. On top of that, any ideas they have will be going through her, she'll have the final say. One of the upsides of the last decade has been not having to argue to the point her voice going hoarse if she wanted something done her way. 

In any case, these are thoughts and ideas that will keep her occupied for the next little while. 

Taking a sip of whiskey, Ashe continues her scan of the room, locking eyes with a woman she’s never seen before. She’s sitting alone at one of the tables at the rear of the dancefloor and she's gorgeous; nothing but trouble with that flirty smile on her lips. Her mulberry lipstick pops against her skin, her black cocktail dress hugs her figure, and it's short, barely covering her ass. Her legs go on for days, Ashe eyes them, from her thick, muscular thighs, all the way to the black stilettos on her feet. 

The woman doesn’t take her eyes of Ashe, not as she raises her cocktail in toast, not as she wraps her lips around her straw. _ That _ is unfairly sexy, Ashe can't help but imagine those lips on her skin, and suddenly, she is acutely aware of how long it’s been since she’s slept with someone. 

With nights off being a rarity, her go-to isn't to find someone to fuck; it's entering true sloth mode, watching Mexican soap operas and eating an entire tub of ice cream in bed. 

Even tonight, she wasn't looking to hook up, wasn’t interested in wanting someone between her legs. She _ had _ planned on having a little solo fun, just her and her vibrator when she got home.

Right now, though, that's an entirely different story. 

Maybe she’ll swap her toy for this sexy woman instead. 

But with that thought comes the niggling, paranoid voice in the back of her head: the reason why she doesn’t pick up some random, _ especially _ a stranger at her club, is that people _ still _attempt to claim the bounty on her head. They’ve tried and failed in the past, attempting to take her in while she’s minding her business in town, or when she’s at the clubhouse, or even when she’s here, relaxing. She’s just too suspicious of everyone, and it soon became easier to just solely rely on herself and her toys to see her through her loneliest nights.

Which, in itself, is a sad, depressing thought. 

There has to be a limit to her paranoia, though. Clearly her body is trying to tell her _ something_, if not for the simple fact that she immediately thought about fucking this woman instead of brushing her off. She _ could_, just this once, break her rule, see where this goes. Hopefully, it doesn’t bite her in the ass.

Rules are made to be broken, after all. 

Ashe takes her eyes off the woman, then, picking her phone up from beside her. She opens the messaging app and texts Bob, instructing him to run facial recognition on her and do a complete background check. Ashe has never seen her before, so knowing everything about her is a necessity, just to protect herself and the gang.

And if this woman wants to fuck her, she’d rather it be the literal kind, not the metaphorical kind. 

Ashe sets her phone down again and looks up at the woman. It seems like she never took her eyes off Ashe, and when they make eye contact, the woman winks slyly, placing her empty glass down and standing. Ashe’s breath hitches; the woman’s got the sexiest hourglass figure, her dress absolutely accentuates off her curves, and she possibly has the best ass Ashe has ever seen.

With that flirty smile on her lips, the woman approaches. She struts, her hips sway alluringly, almost mesmerising. Ashe’s mouth goes dry just looking at her, she feels a spark of warmth in her core. 

The woman is ready to enter Ashe’s little booth, but Bob stands in her way. She looks up at him, then past him, meeting Ashe's eyes, and gives a little wave of her fingers. 

Despite her brain telling her to wait for confirmation from Bob about her identity, that playing hard to get in that time would make this more interesting, Ashe listens to the tingling between her legs as images of peeling that dress off the woman flash in her mind. 

“It’s fine, Bob,” Ashe says. “Let her though.”

Bob nods his head and stands aside for her. The woman is grinning now, flashing her teeth as she sits next to Ashe gracefully. She doesn’t say anything, just reaches into her purse, pulling out a cigarette, waving it between her fingers. Ashe plucks out her lighter from her pocket, igniting the end when she places it between her lips. She takes a long drag, meeting Ashe’s gaze as she blows the smoke upwards. 

“Thanks,” she says, and Ashe all but melts into a boneless puddle upon hearing her accent. She holds out her hand. “I’m Olivia.”

“Ashe.” She takes her hand, shaking it. “Or Liz. Either-or, it don’t matter.” She bites her tongue to stop from rambling. It's the only way to stop her motormouth when she’s nervous; when she gets the _ I want to fuck your brains out _ nerves, at least.

Olivia smirks devilishly. “Ashe?” She reaches out, swiping up a lock of Ashe’s hair with her finger. “Because of your hair?”

“It _ also _ happens to be my last name,” Ashe retorts. She winces internally, that came out harsher than she intended. 

It doesn’t seem to deter Olivia, though, she smiles wide. 

“So your _ ashen _ hair matches your last name.” Olivia looks at the lock, twirling it around her finger, before meeting Ashe’s gaze. “Which you prefer to go by?”

“My parents had a sick, twisted sense of humour,” Ashe says dryly. They thought it was a hoot to design their baby with ashen hair and red eyes. _ Our little firecracker _, they used to call her as a kid, which honestly was the most perfect pet name for her, given where she ended up. “Like I said, either-or.”

Olivia pulls her hand back, the lock of hair falls against Ashe’s face as Olivia taps her lip with the same finger. It’s unfairly hot, almost like Olivia's getting a taste of her. 

Then, suddenly and intrusively, the image of Olivia’s head buried between her legs pops into her mind. That ignites a fire in her core, and she hopes, _ prays _ to anyone that’ll listen that Olivia has the same idea. 

“I like Ashe,” Olivia says after a moment, drawing Ashe from her horny thoughts. “Suits you better than Liz.”

Ashe cannot help but smirk. “That’s why I use it,” she says, bringing the glass up to her lips, taking a slow sip in an attempt to cool off. 

She uses the opportunity to truly take Olivia in. Her hair is swept over her right side, her left is shaved short, she’s got a pattern in it along with glowing magenta cybernetics on her scalp. She has the most adorable mole under her left eye, her low cut dress that shows off her frankly amazing cleavage—she has to be wearing a push-up bra or something to make those puppies pop. 

Sucking in a breath, Ashe wonders if it’s too forward to just drop her head, here and now, bury herself in those tits and breathe in Olivia’s smell.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Ashe says, putting a cap on her thirsty desires, meeting Olivia’s gaze again. “And honey," she makes a note to rake her eyes up and down Olivia’s body, from tits to thighs, "I’d notice you.”

“I’m not from around here. But I heard about the show and couldn’t resist checking it out.” Olivia leans in a little closer, a devilish smirk teasing her lips. “It’s nothing compared to you, though.”

Ashe bites her lip, her teeth drag against it as Olivia just as slowly and slyly checks her out. “You’re a charmer, you know that?”

Olivia takes a deep drag from her cigarette, blowing the smoke upwards. “When I see something I like, I take it. And _ honey_,” her eyes drop, staring at Ashe’s chest, “I _ like _you.”

Maybe it’s Ashe’s desperation talking, or the fact that she’s pleasantly buzzed from her glasses of whiskey, but she reaches out, touching Olivia’s shoulder, rubbing circles into her skin with her fingertips. “That so?”

Olivia hums. “And I kinda wanna kiss you.”

Ashe exhales slowly. God, she wants nothing more than to taste those lips, but that voice at the back of her mind tells her that this feels too good to be true. This gorgeous woman approaching out of nowhere and asking for a kiss so suddenly sets off alarm bells she should listen to, but she finds herself ignoring them.

She still hasn’t received confirmation from Bob that Olivia’s not a fed or bounty hunter. This _ could _ be a trap, a means to get her alone so Olivia can make her move, arrest her and haul her ass into jail, but what if it _ isn't_, what if it’s just a one night stand? Ashe hasn't felt this way, responded so viscerally to a person in a _ long _ time, why _ shouldn't _ she have a little bit of fun since the opportunity has presented itself?

In any case, trap or not, Ashe can defend herself. She’s carrying right now, so if anything seems the slightest bit off or if Olivia's behaviour changes suspiciously, Ashe won’t hesitate to take matters into her own hands. 

Won’t be the first time, and wouldn’t be the last, she’s sure.

Ashe looks into Olivia's eyes, when they catch the light from the kid’s setup, they sparkle like amethysts. Olivia's so unique—literally one of a kind—how _ could _ she turn down this opportunity?

“Well,” Ashe prompts, resting her cigar on the ashtray and curling her leg under herself to face Olivia, “what are you waiting for.”

There’s a little mischievous glint in Olivia’s eyes as she takes another drag of her cigarette. She doesn't exhale, she holds her breath as she leans in and wraps her hand around the back of Ashe’s neck. Olivia’s nose grazes her cheek, her lips brush against Ashe’s.

Ashe’s eyes flutter closed as she parts her lips. Then she feels Olivia's exhale, tasting the smoke as it fills her mouth. She whimpers, her head absolutely swims in pleasure and her hand settles on Olivia’s shoulder, holding on for dear life. When she can no longer feel the caress of Olivia's breath on her lips, Ashe exhales slowly, closing the distance and kissing her. Their lips lock, and for a moment, they remain still. 

And like a switch being flipped, the fragility between them is shattered as lust takes over. Ashe licks into Olivia’s mouth, she groans when she feels Olivia’s tongue piercing. 

It would be too forward to climb onto Olivia’s lap, and far too desperate. Ashe's body is positively screaming for it, though, to straddle her hips, to grind down on her and chase an orgasm, here and now. 

She doesn't get the opportunity to move, as Olivia’s hand settles high on Ashe’s thigh. Ashe gasps, her stomach flutters fiercely, and she spreads her legs wider on instinct. There's a moment of stillness, then slowly, Olivia drags her hand up, not stopping until she’s settled between Ashe's legs, rubbing through her pants with her thumb.

Ashe groans, low in her throat, and she cups Olivia’s face. She should feel ashamed, dirty, _ embarrassed _ at the mere thought of Olivia so publicly groping her, but it's just a bigger turn on. So _ what _ if someone sees them? What are they going to do, take her picture, post it to social media? So fucking what? It's no worse than what's happening on the dancefloor. 

With every moment that passes, each hard rub against her, Ashe can feel just how wet she is. It’s a damn shame she can’t take Olivia home, right this very second, because she’d love to fuck her. She’s got the most perfect double ended dildo in purple that matches Olivia’s hair, and fuck, Olivia would look so pretty on it. 

But absent that, Ashe has fingers and a tongue that works wonders, as well as a private room on the second floor. 

Ashe sighs contently, resting her hand on Olivia's bare thigh. The kiss recedes, and Ashe pulls away to sweep Olivia’s hair behind her ear. “Do you feel like taking this somewhere more private?”

Olivia smirks devilishly, and Ashe suppresses a whine when Olivia sits back. Looking at her cigarette, Olivia flicks the ash onto the ashtray before swiping Ashe’s whiskey and, while making eye contact and winking, downs the lot. 

Ashe watches on, way too turned on to care about Olivia’s brazenness, as her entire glass is drained. She doesn't even wince, and _ that _shouldn't be as hot as it is—Ashe loves a woman who can handle her liquor. 

Taking one final drag of her cigarette before snubbing it out, Olivia takes Ashe’s hand and stands. “Yours or mine?”

“Here,” Ashe says, standing. Her eyes flick to above her, at the tinted window on the second floor. “Got the best seats in the house.”

“Well then,” Olivia says, smiling wide. “Lead the way.”

With Bob trailing behind, Ashe takes Olivia to the stairwell that’s guarded by one of her guys. He steps aside, and Ashe leads Olivia up the stairs and into the room that awaits them. Olivia approaches the window, and Ashe seizes that opportunity, closing the door on her and looking up at Bob.

“Find anything?” she whispers.

Bob shakes his head, bringing up the search results from the holo in his hand. Olivia Fuentes, born in Puebla, Mexico, according to her birth certificate. Her passport corroborates that, her social security confirms she’s living in the States now, just outside San Diego. She’s got a small criminal record, mainly parking fines, as well as two counts of public indecency that Ashe is in no way surprised about. Bank records indicate nothing out of the ordinary, she works as a freelance artist, as well as a waiting gig according to payslips. 

Nothing to indicate that she’s not who she says she is. 

It’s not one hundred percent confirmation, fake IDs and aliases are things that Ashe is no stranger to, but she’s not squeaky clean, which is positive. Considering it didn’t bring up anything from the cop database which covers known bounty hunters, that sets Ashe’s mind at ease. It seems like Olivia’s not going to haul her ass away. 

Not that Bob, or her guys, would let Olivia get very far if that indeed does end up being the case.

“Thanks, Bob,” Ashe says. He turns off the holo, and with one final nod, she steps through the door, locking it on the other side. 

“For a moment there I thought you were asking him to join us,” Olivia says, a little too slyly for Ashe’s taste. She looks over her shoulder, smirking. “I wouldn’t say no, you know.”

Anyone with half a brain cell, who has been looking at her and the club, would know of her and Bob’s _ platonic _ relationship. _ If _ she’s feigning ignorance, she’s damn good. 

“He’s my personal security. He’ll be guarding the door for us, make sure we're not interrupted," Ashe says nonchalantly, watching Olivia’s face for a reaction. She just shrugs, looking back out the window to the floor below. Either she’s an actress who can give Hollywood A-listers a run for their money, or she genuinely doesn’t care that Bob could pick her up like a ragdoll in one hand and crush her if she tried anything. 

Whatever her reasons or motivations for this evening, Bob’s just outside, and Ashe has her Glock, the weight of it on her hip is comforting. 

Taking a deep, calming breath and getting back into the mood, Ashe takes Olivia in again. Her dress is low cut at the back, showing off her spinal implant, shiny and sexy and honestly makes her more fuckable than before. That thing arching when she comes? Ashe shudders at the thought.

“Weren’t kidding about the best seats in the house," Olivia says, breaking the silence.

Ashe hums as she approaches her, placing her hands on Olivia's waist and kissing her shoulder. She looks out the window to the stage down below. “Made this just for me.”

“So you bring people up here all the time, then?” There's a playfulness to Olivia’s tone, and Ashe smiles against her skin. 

“Not _ all _the time.” Ashe’s lips slide up to her neck. “Just when I’m here and someone catches my eye.”

“I should consider myself lucky, then,” Olivia says, her nose brushes against Ashe’s forehead. 

“Absolutely,” Ashe breathes, meeting Olivia in another kiss. It’s rough, full of passion, and Ashe is certain that Olivia has the same exhibitionism kink that she does. 

Ashe can’t help herself, then, picking up where they left off. She slides her hand down onto Olivia’s thigh to pull up her dress slowly. Olivia doesn’t stop her, not when Ashe caresses the soft skin of her inner thigh, not when she climbs higher, rubbing against her _ bare_, underwearless lips. 

“Jesus,” Ashe hisses, too horny to even question her about it. The kiss turns sloppy, they lose their rhythm but she doesn’t fucking care. She gently swipes her finger along the seam, and when she reaches the top, she catches a ring piercing. She can feel her knees weaken, she braces herself against the window as she plays with it gently. “You are fucking sinful.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Olivia murmurs. She rolls her hips, Ashe’s finger slips lower, catching her wetness. 

“I’m gonna eat you out on that couch,” Ashe growls, massaging her entrance. She grazes her teeth against her neck. “Make you come over and over until you’re nothing but a quivering, sobbing mess.”

“And I don’t get to have my fill while that’s happening?”

Ashe pulls away, meeting Olivia's gaze. She’s got a wicked little glint in her eye that matches the smirk on her lips. “What do you have in mind?” 

“Well,” Olivia positively beams, “why waste time going one at a time when we can both have fun?”

Ashe is sure she’s died and gone to heaven. “Sit on my face.”

Olivia hums, turning to face Ashe. She looks into her eyes as she slides Ashe out of her jacket, it pools by her feet. Olivia spots the gun, she does a double-take but otherwise doesn’t say anything as she unbuttons Ashe’s shirt. She pulls it away and eyes her chest, biting her lip. "Red suits you."

“I got a thing for it,” Ashe says, silently thanking her lucky stars that she decided to wear her matching underwear to go with it. 

The shirt falls to the floor too, and Olivia’s hands settle on Ashe’s back, unhooking her bra. Biting her lip, she pulls it by the straps and drops it too. 

"I'm not the only one who's sinful," Olivia teases, taking Ashe in. Her hands slide down, cupping her breasts, playing with her nipple piercings between her fingers. 

Ashe bites back a moan. Olivia is rough, squeezing and kneading and pinching, but it feels so fucking good. She shifts her weight—feels all kinds of sticky in her underwear—cupping Olivia's face, tipping her head back and kissing her hard. 

When they find a rhythm, Ashe drops her hands to Olivia’s shoulders and she slips the thin straps of her dress between her fingers, pushing them down Olivia's arms. Ashe finds the zip on the left side of her waist, pulling it down and the dress falls, catching on her hips. 

Ashe breaks off the kiss, taking in Olivia's body. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," she breathes, looking at Olivia's tattoos. She’s got a large, intricately detailed silk moth under her breasts, a monochromatic snake along her left side, coiling from her hip to her ribs. Above her right hip is a scorpion’s tail, and Ashe hooks her fingers inside the dress, pulling it down over the curve of her ass and letting it fall to the floor as she gets a proper look at it. The scorpion too is monochromatic but sits on a colourful backdrop of desert flowers and it has to be Ashe’s favourite. 

“I like that one too,” Olivia says, and Ashe meets her gaze. “But I really like this,” she says, fingers tracing up Ashe’s left arm, past the Deadlock branding, over the coiling thorns that go up to her shoulder. “It’s entirely not surprising that roses are a favourite. Beautiful from afar, prickly when close.” She looks Ashe in the eye, smirking devilishly. “Suits you.”

Ashe smirks back. “It weeds out the weak.”

“Let me guess: you’ve got red roses in your garden, and you buy them over winter so you’ve always got them in the house?”

It’s like Olivia has looked through the window that is her life. It’s probably not a hard conclusion to come to, but it’s astoundingly accurate. Maybe there was more to Ashe’s earlier paranoia. Perhaps Ashe is just that predictable. 

“Am I that easy to read?” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t have picked it without seeing the tattoo,” Olivia says. “I like roses too. They’re just…”

“Elegant,” Ashe says at the same time as Olivia. 

Olivia hums, taking Ashe’s hand in hers and leading her to the couch. She sits, placing her hands on Ashe’s hips to keep her standing, and leans in, pressing soft kisses to her belly. 

Ashe pulls Olivia's hair away from her face, cupping the back of her neck as she looks at the implants on her head. She's curious as to why she needs them but doesn't ask, deciding to keep the mystery between them.

Olivia pulls back and her fingers ghost across Ashe's gunbelt. Ashe takes over, unfastening it, placing it on the table behind her beside Olivia's purse. 

Sucking in a breath, Ashe watches as Olivia undoes her pants, pulling them down. Olivia kisses her belly, she dots kisses to the small skull tattoo on her left hip. 

“I’d bet this one has a story,” Olivia says, glancing up at her.

“One I don’t feel like discussing,” Ashe replies. 

"Aww, you're no fun."

Ashe sighs looking down at it. "If you _ must _ know, it is a cover-up.” 

Despite the fact that the skull is shaded, some days she can still see the cursive script of _ his _ name. It was an act of pure drunken stupidity, they rushed off to the tattoo parlour and she got his name tattooed after he promised her the world.

Just one short month later, he promptly fucked off and joined Overwatch. 

But he also got her name tattooed in the same spot, which makes his sudden betrayal all the more confusing. Some days, when she's drunk enough and in a shitty, self-deprecating mood, she wonders if he still has it. 

“Ex lover’s name?” Olivia asks, snapping Ashe back into the present. 

“He _ wasn’t _a lover,” Ashe retorts. They never dated. She was ready to give her heart to him, was ready to say those three little words on the day he went out and never came back. They were sleeping together, though, under two explicit circumstances: when they had been drinking, or when an argument got so heated the best way to channel that anger was to fuck. 

“Touchy.” Olivia pulls back, looking up at her. “So the skull means he’s dead?”

“Dead to _ me. _ He’s still kicking out there.” Ashe inhales and exhales deeply. A part of her wondered if he’d come back once Overwatch bit the dust, but he didn't. All it did was make those feelings she buried all those years ago resurface. But not only that, they amplified ten-fold. 

She was naïve to think that he_ would _ come back. Despite hating his guts, a small part of her hoped for him, _ longed _ for him to return to the life they once had. Every time, though, she would immediately squash down those thoughts and bury them in a box at the back of her mind. It’s gotten easier over the years, re-learning to let go of all of that resentment. 

And just like all the times before, Ashe locks him back in that box, focusing on Olivia, naked in front of her as she swipes her thumb over the tattoo. 

“The skull specifically is a reminder to never _ ever _ get someone else’s name tattooed on my body. I made that mistake _ once_, ain’t gonna do that again.”

Olivia only hums, far too neutral to get a read on. Her thumbs trace the bottom of Ashe’s underwear, rubbing little spirals into her skin. “Well, fuck him.”

Huffing a laugh, Ashe caresses Olivia’s face. Truer words were never spoken, and she won't let the mere mention of _ him _ ruin her evening. “Well said.”

Olivia winks slyly, hooking her fingers into Ashe’s underwear and pulling them down slowly. A smile spreads on her lips as she brushes her thumb against the dark stripe of pubic hair. "Was wondering if you were _ ashen _ here too."

"Just on my head. Gene editing is a _ wonderful _ thing," she says, ensuring her words are dripping in every ounce of sarcasm she can muster. 

"Well, fuck your parents too," Olivia breathes, kissing her stomach. She trails down lower, and Ashe moans as Olivia's thumb rubs against her clit. “So sensitive,” she teases, looking up at her and winking. 

“Well, you _ are _ a tease.”

“A fact,” Olivia murmurs. Maintaining eye contact, she leans in, licking Ashe's clit with the tip of her tongue; long and slow and tortuous. 

“Fuck,” Ashe moans, cupping the back of Olivia’s head. Her knees shake, it takes so much restraint to not push Olivia back and ride her face until _ she _ is a quivering, sobbing mess. 

Instead, as Olivia pulls away again, Ashe takes a step back, unzipping her boots and leaving them where they fall, dropping her pants and underwear, kicking them aside. She takes Olivia’s hand and pulls her to standing before taking her place on the couch and lying down, head resting on the armrest.

Olivia climbs on top of her, her knees bracket Ashe’s head. Ashe rests her hands on the curve of her ass, practically pulling her down on top of her. As soon as she can and using her whole tongue, she licks against Olivia, from her clit to her entrance, and is rewarded with Olivia's hips bucking.

“So sensitive,” Ashe mutters, running the tip of her tongue around Olivia’s piercing. 

Olivia doesn’t say anything but retaliates by pushing a finger inside her. Ashe moans, long and loud, and practically screams when she feels that first hard suck against her clit. 

“Like things rough?” Olivia asks. Ashe shivers, feeling her breath caress her inner thigh. 

“Sometimes,” Ashe replies, sucking on the piercing. Olivia moans again, quick, sharp, like she let it slip by accident. Shifting her hand, Ashe separates Olivia’s labia with two fingers and massages her entrance with her tongue. “You?” she asks, despite being sure that she knows the answer. 

“Sometimes.” Olivia kisses Ashe’s thigh, a second finger massages her entrance before joining the first. 

Eyes sliding closed, Ashe pushes her tongue inside Olivia. Fuck, she tastes so good and smells even better. She’s addictive, every time Ashe thinks she can stop and give Olivia’s clit some attention, she simply can’t, eagerly lapping her up. Ashe hooks her arms around Olivia’s thighs, hands on her ass, as she pulls her down harder. 

Olivia’s weight on top of her is fucking delectable. If there’s one thing Ashe utterly misses when she takes care of herself, it’s the weight and warmth of another person. But despite Olivia hitting the spot, Ashe ignores her building orgasm. Right now, her only goal is getting Olivia to come, just so she can hear the pretty noises Olivia will make. 

It doesn’t take Ashe much time to work out what Olivia loves. Just having her face buried between her legs is enough to get her going, but when Ashe uses her whole mouth—her tongue, her lips—it’s stimulating enough. Sucking on her clit, running little circles around the piercing, tonguefucking her, Olivia likes it all and responds with moans and hip jerks. 

By far, Ashe’s favourite thing, though, is massaging Olivia’s clit with her fingers while she tonguefucks her. _ That _ seems to be what gets her going, and Olivia makes the most delicious-sounding moans Ashe has ever heard. That, combined with Olivia’s tongue and fingers working her apart, it leaves Ashe sitting on the edge of orgasm. 

But she won’t come before Olivia. She won’t _ let _ herself come before Olivia.

Taking hold of Olivia’s ass again and digging her fingers in, she focuses on Olivia’s clit; licking against it, alternating between hard and fast and long and slow. Every time she picks up speed, Ashe is rewarded with the jerk of Olivia’s hips, and she keeps that up until Olivia is bucking on her face.

When Ashe sucks on the piercing, taking it between her teeth and gently pulling, that’s what pushes Olivia over the edge. She moans, her forehead presses against Ashe’s thigh, her penetrations stop. 

Despite Olivia's pause, Ashe can feel her toes curling; just having someone rutting against her leaves her head swimming in pure pleasure. Fuck, all Ashe wants to do is fuck her, hard and fast, so she can see the look on Olivia's face as she comes. 

Olivia’s bucking slows, Ashe licks against her clit softly as her orgasm backs off. Humming contently, Olivia kisses Ashe’s inner thigh, and Ashe moans as she sucks on her skin; she knows she’ll have a hickey there.

Ashe moans softly as Olivia works between her legs, settling into a slow rhythm as she allows herself to enjoy Olivia's mouth. Her jaw is beginning to ache but she doesn’t care. The _ only _ thing that matters right now is wringing orgasm after orgasm out of Olivia, to hear her moans, feel her bucking against her face over and over, until Olivia has to _ beg _ her to stop.

Fighting her own orgasm this time is proving difficult, but Ashe pushes through it to give Olivia her second. She uses Olivia’s oversensitivity to her advantage, rubbing against her with her lips, making patterns with the tip of her tongue around the piercing. It’s not long before Olivia quivers above her, her breaths deep and ragged as she absolutely _ sits _ on Ashe’s face. 

If Ashe were to die now, she’d die a very fucking happy woman. 

Olivia sits up, hovering just above Ashe’s face. She plunges her fingers inside Ashe again, her thumb rubs against her clit roughly. Ashe bites her lip, fighting the urge to respond to it, only because she wants more of Olivia. 

“Are you even _ close _ ?” Olivia asks. It’s almost accusatory, like Olivia’s suggesting that she is _ incapable _ of orgasming.

Like Olivia’s taken offence that she can’t make her come. 

Ashe grins at the thought.

“You got me close a few times,” Ashe says. She uses the opportunity to lick her lips clean and analyse Olivia's spinal implant. It’s even more gorgeous up close, and Ashe raises her hand, running her fingers over it. “Fought it, though. Wanted to make sure you were well taken care of.”

“Well, how _ nice _ of you.” Olivia spits. God, the sarcasm in her tone is a fucking turn on. 

“I like to please my lovers.”

Olivia hums, and much to Ashe’s dismay, she climbs off her. Resting her weight on her elbows, Ashe gets a good look at her, at her spit-slicked lips, her smeared and faded lipstick, the sweat beading her skin. “I wanna swap. You can go upside down, _ I _ want _ you _ to sit on my face.”

Ashe exhales, stuttered, sitting up and climbing off the couch. She’s not one to take orders, but she can’t resist coming from a sexual partner. Olivia takes her spot, and Ashe straddles her shoulders, pressing her weight into Olivia and hooking her hands around her legs. From this angle, she works Olivia’s piercing with her tongue and plunges two fingers inside her. 

_ Fuck_, Olivia's so tight and warm, and Ashe decides she’s going to invite Olivia back to her place after this and fuck her. She _ needs _her like her body needs air. 

Ashe feels Olivia’s breath, hot against her, snapping her back into the moment. Olivia utterly digs her fingers into the meat of her ass, spreading her, and when she feels the first proper lick against her, rubbing her tongue piercing over her clit as fast as she can manage, Ashe knows it’s game over. 

Still, she fights it, focusing more on her penetrations than her licking. Olivia bucks against her, Ashe can feel her tighten, can feel the damn vibrations from her muffled moans against her. But when Olivia switches from licking against her clit to tonguefucking her, that’s when Ashe’s orgasm crashes into her like a wave. 

The icing on the cake, though, is Olivia coming right beside her. Olivia clenches down around her fingers, her thighs practically squeeze Ashe tight. Ashe’s head drops to the couch, she rocks her hips against Olivia’s face, getting as much contact with Olivia’s tongue piercing as she can. She knows that she should stop, but she _ can’t_, not until she’s floating down from the high. 

Ashe pulls herself up, turns to face Olivia, all but collapses on her to kiss her, tasting herself on Olivia’s lips and tongue. This is the perfect end to her night, she didn’t even think that hooking up with someone was a possibility tonight, but she’s sure fucking glad she didn’t listen to her paranoia and had a little fun. It’s scratched that itch, something she didn’t realise she _ missed _ until now.

The hardest part now is remembering that Olivia is a hook-up and that this bubble will pop eventually. 

But until then, Ashe has absolutely not had her fill of Olivia. 

With a final kiss to the corner of Olivia’s mouth, Ashe pulls away, looking into Olivia’s eyes. She sweeps her hair aside, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ve gotta camp here a few more hours, until after the kid’s finished and gone, but after, wanna come back to mine? Have round two?”

Olivia smiles wide, wrapping her arms around Ashe tight. “That sounds like it would be a lot of fun.”

“_Honey_, you ain’t seen a good time yet.”

“Oh?”

“Gonna make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

Olivia smirks. “You sound awfully confident of yourself.” 

“I absolutely am,” Ashe drawls, winking. 

With one last kiss, Ashe stands. Her legs feel a little like jello, but she’s come to expect that after sex. She picks her panties from the floor and slides them on. “In the meantime, though, Cuban cigar and drinks. On me.”

Olivia chuckles, approaching Ashe and brushing her hand along her ass. “The perks of fucking the owner.”

“They are numerous.”

Despite the promise of more sex later, as Ashe continues to get dressed, she feels cold and lonely, more so than before. She begins the mental countdown to later, when Olivia is in her bed, sweaty and moaning and panting, with skin pressed against skin. 

She can’t fucking wait.

Ashe picks up her gun belt and wraps it around her hips. The second it’s fastened, Olivia appears beside her, pressed in close, arm around her waist. It's almost like she sensed Ashe’s apprehension, and it immediately melts away.

“You’re not leaving my side,” Ashe murmurs, draping an arm over her shoulder. 

“There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be."

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to explain Sombra's motivations considering it isn't explored in the fic. She is here for a reason, it's part of her search for knowledge, connecting the dots, picking at the remains of Overwatch. At this stage in time, she's had contact with Jesse and is digging into his past, starting with Ashe. 
> 
> Does she sleep with everyone she investigates? Only the ones who are clearly into her 😏
> 
> I deliberated with the idea of calling herself Olivia or using a different alias altogether. I settled on it, ultimately, because I like to think, especially at this point in time, that she perhaps flirts with danger. Olivia in itself is a common enough name anyways.
> 
> While I don't have immediate plans to write the second part hinted in this fic, I do want to explore this universe further at some stage. 
> 
> As always, this is a work of fiction. Please practice safe oral sex irl. 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) Come say hi!


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